home

search

Rising

  Sockoo, on

  the ground behind her, barely conscious, coughed blood and tried to speak.

  >

  “Rizra… y-you don’t have to…”

  Rizra

  didn’t even glance back.

  Her voice

  softened just slightly.

  > “You

  fought enough. Let me return the favor.”

  Daka, still

  limping from his own battle, tried to push himself up, but saw Rizra’s

  expression—and stopped.

  He’d only

  seen that look **once before**—when Rizra broke a **mountain-sized war golem**

  in two during their training.

  Jessica

  stepped back from Hajime for a moment, eyes wide, whispering,

  > “Is

  she… really gonna take on *Alex* after that transformation?”

  Hajime

  didn’t answer. He just looked at Rizra, then muttered:

  > “...If

  anyone can do it with pure fists… it’s her.”

  Alex, still

  in her cursed royal fire state, **grinned**.

  > “So

  the musclehead steps in? Fine. Let’s see how long you last.”

  Rizra

  rolled her neck, bones popping. Then she clenched her fists, and the **ground

  beneath her cracked**, just from the pressure.

  She didn’t

  reply with words.

  She

  **charged**, faster than she’d ever moved in the tournament.

  Alex raised

  her arms, flames surrounding her like a throne.

  **CLASH!**

  Fist to

  flame—**the impact shook the stadium.**

  Rizra’s

  punch **blew away** the cursed fire coating Alex’s arm, and Alex’s eyes

  widened. She stepped back.

  Rizra

  followed.

  Another

  punch—**uppercut this time**—and Alex’s body was lifted slightly from the

  ground.

  >

  “This... isn't muscle," Rizra said quietly, her voice low and sharp.

  "This is will."

  Alex

  growled, flame wings flaring behind her.

  She tried

  to bring down a meteor punch—

  But Rizra

  caught it. With **one hand**.

  > “You

  want Hajime?” Rizra said through clenched teeth.

  > “Then

  you better bury me first.”

  And then—

  **She

  headbutted Alex. So hard, the flames bent backward.**

  The crowd

  gasped.

  Sockoo,

  barely hanging on, smiled through the blood.

  >

  "That’s...my teammate."

  The fight

  had only just begun—

  And **Rizra

  was just getting started.** Rizra stood firm, fists clenched, her breathing

  steady but her mind storming.

  She wasn’t

  stupid.

  She

  **felt** it—the overwhelming, godlike pressure rolling off Alex in her

  full-powered form.

  Every

  instinct in Rizra’s body screamed at her to back down.

  But she

  didn’t move.

  Not because

  she believed she could win—

  But because

  **someone had to stand**. Someone had to buy **time**.

  She looked

  at Sockoo, bruised and broken on the ground, still trying to push herself up.

  She looked

  at Daka, half-conscious, hands trembling, trying to summon a spell that

  probably wouldn't come in time.

  Her jaw

  tightened.

  >

  “...Yeah,” she muttered to herself.

  > “I’m

  gonna lose. I know it. But—”

  She dropped

  into a stance, low and grounded, every muscle coiled like a steel cable.

  > “If I

  can buy just a few minutes… if I can give them just *one* opening…”

  She grit

  her teeth.

  > “Then

  I’ve already won.”

  Alex,

  watching her, could see it.

  Rizra

  wasn’t confident.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  She was

  **cornered**.

  >

  “You’re not even sure you can touch me again,” Alex said smugly, floating above

  the ground now with cursed fire spiraling around her like a storm. “So why

  stand? What’s your play, huh? You gonna scream and punch rocks again?”

  Rizra

  didn't answer with words. She stared her down, calm and resolute.

  In that

  silence, Alex's grin faded slightly.

  >

  “...Tch. You're annoying. But fine.”

  Alex flared

  her wings and flew toward her at lightning speed—

  **Rizra

  lunged.**

  They met

  mid-air—flame and fist—

  Rizra

  **barely** blocked the blow, her arms **immediately burning**, skin blistering

  from the cursed fire.

  But she

  didn’t fall.

  She held

  her ground.

  >

  "You're stalling..." Alex said darkly, pushing down.

  >

  "You think someone’s gonna save you?"

  Rizra spat

  blood to the side and smirked through the pain.

  > “No,”

  she said. “I’m stalling... so I can figure out how to beat you.”

  Alex’s eyes

  widened—just a bit—before Rizra **headbutted** her again and twisted her hips

  into a brutal elbow.

  Not

  perfect. Not clean.

  But it

  **staggered** Alex.

  Behind

  them, Sockoo's hand began to glow faintly. Daka's wind began to swirl.

  They just

  needed more time.

  And Rizra

  would give them **everything** she had to buy it. As Sockoo’s body surged

  forward, launched by Daka’s razor wind like a cannonball of fire and fury, time

  itself seemed to stretch.

  The heat

  radiating off her was **blistering**. Her evolved cat form glowed white-hot

  from overexertion. Flames flickered violently along her limbs, her body

  trembling from the stress.

  Her

  **eyes**—once gleaming with determination—were now bloodshot, weeping **crimson

  tears**.

  Her

  **nose** bled freely.

  Blood

  leaked from her lips with every breath.

  She was

  pushing far past her limits… and everyone watching knew it.

  Rizra,

  mid-swing with Alex, felt a strange *pressure* behind her.

  Her body,

  honed by years of combat, screamed:

  >

  **“MOVE—NOW.”**

  She twisted

  at the last possible moment, ducking by the slimmest of margins.

  And then…

  **BOOOOOOM!**

  Sockoo

  **collided** with Alex with the force of a falling meteor.

  Her

  fist—wreathed in pure, burning flame—erupted into a **Fiery Extreme Wave**, a

  condensed blast of blazing elemental fury.

  It didn't

  just explode **on** contact—it **ripped** through the air, leaving shockwaves

  blasting outward like a bomb.

  The arena

  floor **cracked**.

  The stands

  trembled.

  The **sky**

  lit up with a column of white-hot fire shooting upward.

  Alex's body

  was **slammed** back across the battlefield, skipping like a stone, tearing up

  the arena in her wake. The flaming wave left a deep scorch path—jagged, molten,

  and smoking.

  Everyone—**everyone**—was

  silent.

  Rizra,

  crouched low from her dodge, was wide-eyed.

  >

  "That would've **killed** me..." she muttered.

  Daka, now

  collapsed on one knee, managed a weak grin.

  >

  "That’s... Sockoo for you..."

  But Sockoo

  herself… was falling.

  Her body

  limp. Blood pouring. Flames flickering and sputtering out.

  She had

  given **everything** in that one strike.

  As she fell

  from the sky, barely conscious, Hajime took a step forward from the

  sidelines—his face no longer calm.

  His eyes

  glowed a faint **blue**.

  >

  “...Don’t you dare die on me…” he whispered.

  Because

  this fight… wasn’t over yet. The entire stadium fell into a deep hush.

  Alex—one of

  the most formidable fighters in Team Felix—was *down*. The smoke around her

  body still sizzled from Sockoo’s final, devastating strike. Medics rushed to

  her, but all eyes had already shifted to the next storm brewing:

  **Hajime

  vs. Jessica.**

  Brother and

  sister.

  Same blood.

  Same fire.

  But

  different hearts.

  Jessica

  stood across from Hajime, her clothes torn in places, her breathing sharp but

  controlled. Her red eyes burned with wild determination, flames dancing in her

  palms.

  Hajime

  stood tall, his black outfit scorched at the edges, the **white “X”** on his

  chest glowing faintly with his blue flame aura. His face was calm—but his eyes,

  a bright and intense **sky blue**, locked with hers.

  There was

  no room left for jokes. No funny anger.

  Only the

  fire of two warriors with history older than most knew.

  Jessica

  smirked as she lowered her stance.

  > “I

  guess it’s just us now, big bro.”

  Hajime

  cracked his neck.

  > “Yeah.

  Just like old times… minus the screaming and diaper throwing.”

  Jessica

  rolled her eyes.

  > “Tch.

  I was three!”

  > “You

  screamed like you were fifteen.”

  The crowd

  chuckled, tension momentarily lightened—but those in the know? They were

  sweating.

  Because

  Hajime Hamamoto wasn’t just any fighter.

  And Jessica

  Hamamoto wasn’t just his sister.

  She was the

  **only** one who ever matched Hajime flame-for-flame as a child.

  And she had

  awakened *Fire Angel Magic*.

  They both

  slowly began to walk toward each other, their magic flaring—Hajime’s blue

  flames twisting and snapping like lightning, and Jessica’s golden-red fire

  wings unfurling behind her back.

  Then—

  **BOOM!**

  They

  clashed.

  Jessica

  struck first—a wing slash of searing angelic flame.

  Hajime

  ducked under, spinning with a breakdance kick that sent a fiery shockwave up

  her side. Jessica flew back, using her wings to twist and avoid the follow-up.

  She came

  down like a meteor, striking the ground and sending a pillar of flame at

  Hajime.

  Hajime

  raised his hand—

  >

  “**Blue Flame: Barrier Shift.**”

  A

  translucent wall of flickering blue fire **deflected** the blast, then

  shattered into shards that chased Jessica midair. She weaved through them, a

  blur of gold and red.

  > “You

  got faster,” she called out.

  > “You

  got louder,” Hajime replied, leaping after her.

  Their fists

  met midair—again. And again. And again.

  Boom. Boom.

  **BOOM.**

  Flame and

  fire, wind and heat—every punch was like a cannon, every clash creating

  shockwaves through the arena.

  On the

  sidelines, Sockoo barely conscious, whispered:

  >

  “…Raging…”

  Daka looked

  at her. “What?”

  > “He’s

  starting to rage,” she muttered. “That blue fire… he’s not playing anymore.”

  Rizra

  narrowed her eyes. “Then neither is she…”

  Because

  this wasn’t just a battle of power—

  This was a

  battle of identity.

  Of

  childhood.

  Of

  **pride**.

  And it was

  just getting started. Hajime's breathing grew heavy—his chest rising and

  falling with each gasp of oxygen. His black outfit was now scorched, parts of

  the white "X" burned off, and his blue flames flickered, weaker than

  before.

  He stumbled

  slightly after dodging Jessica’s aerial spin kick.

  **Jessica

  landed gracefully.** Her posture perfect, her breathing steady, eyes locked

  onto him with a fierce glow. Not a drop of sweat on her face.

  > “Huff…

  huff… *What the hell...*” Hajime muttered, wiping the blood from the side of

  his mouth. “You got some kind of cheat code or something?”

  Jessica

  tilted her head, grinning softly, flames still calmly burning around her hands.

  > “No

  cheat code. Just good training… and maybe better genes.”

  > “I’m

  literally your brother,” Hajime snapped, annoyed.

  >

  “Half-brother,” she said, teasing but sharp. “Maybe I got the better half.”

  Hajime’s

  fists clenched. He wasn’t just exhausted—he was confused.

  He was the

  **ace** of the Music Strikers.

  He was the

  one who fought *Strikeka*, who rivaled Streetka, who trained with Ray, who endured Izaya's madness

  And yet—

  Jessica was

  standing like she hadn’t even broken a sweat.

  >

  “Why... why aren’t you tired?” he demanded, taking a step back.

  Jessica

  didn’t answer right away. Her red eyes softened—not with pity, but with truth.

  >

  “Because I had to train every day to *meet you someday again, big bro.* You

  were the legend I was chasing. Mom and Dad told me everything. How strong you

  were. How you fought. How you *raged.*”

  > “So

  while you were saving the world, I was building mine—just to reach you.”

  Her flames

  flared out again, wings of fire stretching wide like a phoenix.

  Hajime

  stood still, eyes twitching. The blue flame around his body was growing

  unstable.

  Sockoo,

  still recovering, whispered in panic:

  > “He’s

  burning out.”

  Daka looked

  on nervously. “He’s losing control of his breathing—Jessica’s *not just

  strong*, she’s built to last.”

  Rizra

  scowled. “She’s a stamina tank with angel fire… He’s not gonna outlast her.”

  Jessica

  raised her hand slowly—her calm demeanor returning.

  > “Give

  up, Hajime. You’ve done enough.”

  But Hajime

  just laughed weakly.

  > “Give

  up? I *never* give up.”

  His legs

  wobbled, but he raised his fist, blue fire igniting again with defiant rage.

  > “You

  can have stamina, angel wings, a million push-ups a day… But I have one thing

  you don’t.”

  Jessica

  raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

  >

  “**Rage.**”

  His blue

  flame erupted around him again, more unstable now, more desperate—but it

  *blazed.*

  He

  staggered forward. Step by step. Pure willpower.

  > “So

  let’s rage it… to the very end, Jess.”

  And then,

  despite everything—his exhaustion, his pain, his cracking bones—

  **He

  charged.**

  Again. Hajime

  stumbled to his knees, but as the flames flickered out around him, a sudden

  *spark* of warmth and firelight ignited behind his shoulder.

  A small,

  bright **orange bird**—barely the size of his hand—fluttered into view. Its

  wings shimmered with embers, its eyes glowing like tiny suns.

  The crowd

  murmured in confusion.

  > “Wait…

  is that—?”

  > “Is

  that a… *bird*?”

  > “No

  way—that’s not just any bird…”

  **Phoenix.**

  The

  legendary flame spirit that only responds to hearts filled with both

  desperation… and unbreakable will.

  Perched on

  Hajime’s shoulder, the Phoenix cocked its head and spoke in a voice only Hajime

  could hear, soft but ancient.

  >

  **Phoenix:** “You called me, Hajime. What is it you desire?”

  Hajime

  looked up, blood trailing from his lip. His body trembled. But his eyes—his

  **eyes were burning.**

  >

  **Hajime:** “I want to beat her.”

  The Phoenix

  narrowed its fiery eyes, and for a second, it seemed like it might deny him.

  But then it

  saw what it needed:

  – The

  cracked resolve that refused to break.

  – The

  pride.

  – The pain.

  – The

  *rage.*

  The Phoenix

  nodded, its feathers glowing.

  >

  **Phoenix:** “Then rise, Specter Devil.”

  Suddenly,

  it burst into flames, spiraling into the air above Hajime’s head. The flame

  curled downward—*not to burn him*, but to **bless him**.

  >

  “**Armor Charge.**”

  The fire

  enveloped Hajime—blue, red, orange swirling like a cyclone of fury.

  Piece by

  piece, the fire *forged* itself into glowing armor:

  * A

  **crimson chestplate**, outlined in burning blue

  * Black

  gauntlets with flaming claws at the fingertips

  * Leg

  guards that left **trails of sparks** when he moved

  * A small,

  fiery insignia of a phoenix glowing brightly on his back

  His hair

  spiked upward, his eyes glowed orange, and smoke curled from his fists.

  The stadium

  went silent in awe.

  Jessica

  flinched, finally showing emotion—**shock.**

  >

  “W-What is that…?”

  Hajime

  cracked his neck.

  >

  **Hajime:** “This is your final warning… little sister.”

  >

  **Jessica:** “You had this and waited to use it?!”

  >

  **Hajime:** “I didn’t want to hurt you. But now I want to win.”

  He stepped

  forward, fire surging under his boots with every stomp.

  The

  Phoenix’s voice echoed once more, soft and proud.

  >

  **Phoenix:** “Make this rage... burn eternal.”

  And Hajime

  roared—

  >

  “**RAAAAAAGE ON!!**”

Recommended Popular Novels